


The Shared Wardrobe Experience

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: Stealing clothing from your significant others is a time-honored tradition of relationships.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: Fic In A Box





	The Shared Wardrobe Experience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



There was nothing Sam Wilson loved more than watching the way clothes never stayed in the closet of their owner in the apartment he shared with his paramours. Mostly because when clothes went missing it was always because Natasha decided they suited her current mood. That woman could make anything look good, and Sam never minded looking. Especially since he was actually free to look. It was nice knowing that he didn’t have to worry about the Black Widow stabbing him in his sleep for checking out her ass. Or that he’d have to deal with Steve Rogers’ awkward ‘thanks, but no thanks’ reaction to his blatant ogling when the star-spangled man with killer abs wandered around their place shirtless.

Eye candy for days.

The subject of clothes, though, was one Sam found particularly entertaining. He was a man of the modern area. The unspoken rule that one loses articles of clothing to their girlfriend was no surprise to him. For Steve, who came from an era when hoodies didn’t even exist, the concept was entirely foreign. Which, of course, amused Sam to no end. Steve was forever baffled when his shirts or socks or even his boxers went missing, and he still never thought of their obvious location until after Sam told him to check with Nat.

T-shirts went missing most often. Nat had two drawers full of silky nighties and pajama sets, but she never seemed to wear them. Instead, she favored shirts stolen from either of her boys. She usually only wore them with her most comfortable underwear and maybe a pair of socks. Whether she’d nicked one of Steve’s dozens of white v-necks or any of Sam’s worn favorites, they always fell just past the curve of her ass— the perfect length to ride up and give a great view of her lace-trimmed cheeky cotton panties whenever she had to reach into the top cupboards to retrieve a mug for her nightly cups of tea.

Sam’s favorite theft, though, was whenever she took to working out in Steve’s boxers. It didn’t matter how many options she had for working out, every time she tied the ribbons to her pointe shoes so she could do a little barre work in the dining room they’d converted to a dance space she’d be wearing some basic plaid shorts rolled at the waist so they’d cling to her hips. Ballet wasn’t something he knew much about, but he knew he loved watching her twist her legs into all those intricate motions while in nothing but those boxers and a sports bra. Sometimes he just opened a beer and sat down to watch her, smiling all the while.

Watching was exactly what he was doing when Steve shuffled out of the bedroom at the crack of nine one Saturday morning.

All three of them were early risers, but Steve was usually the one that could manage to sleep in from time to time. They’d been out on a mission until late the night before and had fallen into bed together in an undignified heap the moment they got home. Sam awoke sweating like a pig with Steve half on top of him. The man was a furnace, and inevitably his warmth would wake Sam up if Natasha weren’t there as a buffer between them. She, of course, had already been warming up in the early morning sunlight by the time Sam extricated himself from the super soldier and wrangled himself a cup of coffee. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured over the rim of his second cup when Steve wandered out, shirtless and yawning with what was probably a shirt clutched in his hand. “Coffee’s hot.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbled as he disappeared into the kitchen. 

Natasha bent backwards, balanced on the tip of one shoe with her other foot on the barre. Her back formed a perfect arch. As Sam watched she rolled her neck until he could see the cheeky grin she flashed him. He smiled back and lifted his mug. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did I miss anything good?” Steve asked, appearing at Sam’s elbow.

“Show’s still going,” Sam told him, turning to smirk up at him. He froze at the sight of the shirt Steve had pulled on. “That’s a nice shirt you got on.”

Steve’s cheeks and the tips of his ears turned pink. He scrubbed the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee through his hair and then tugged sheepishly at the shirt. It was a soft, heather grey tee with faded letters spelling out ‘ARMY’ on the chest. It was a little loose on him since it had originally been bought by someone who didn’t wear their tees a size too small. “Yeah, well,” Steve began, pointedly refusing to look Sam in the eye. “Sharing clothes is one of those modern relationship things, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed, a charmed smile spreading over his face. He wrapped one arm around Steve’s narrow waist and leaned his head against the other man’s side. “Yeah, it is.”

“I see he finally figured out that your t-shirts are the comfiest.” Finished with her barre work, Natasha sauntered over to the two of them and sat on Sam’s knee to untie the ribbons on her shoes. She wiggled her toes as she slipped her feet free one at a time. 

“Is that right?” Sam asked.

WIth both feet freed, Natasha stretched her legs out over Sam’s other knee, snuggled close against his chest, and stole his mug for a large sip of coffee. “Definitely.”

“I don’t get it.” Beside them Steve fidgeted, running a hand down the length of the shirt. “We use the same laundry soap, but your shirts are way softer than mine.”

“You know I’ve had that shirt since basic training, right?”

“Is that what it is?” Steve grinned down at him and offered his own mug to Nat when Sam’s turned up empty. 

“Broken in,” Nat chirped, taking a big gulp from Steve’s mug. “He’s had that shirt twice as long as you’ve been defrosted. Plenty of time to get it good and worn in the best kind of way.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “You know, an insecure man might start thinking you two only kept him around to steal his clothes.”

“Would that insecure man be complaining?” Nat asked.

“Hell no.” Sam unwound his arm from Steve’s waist, wrapped it snugly around Natasha, and stood with her clinging to his torso. “He’d probably just want to know if breakfast and a day on the couch with his loves was in his future.”

Steve laughed, reached for Sam’s chin, and tilted his face up for a sweet kiss. He snagged his mug back from Natasha’s hands and pressed another kiss to her lips. “I think we can manage that.”


End file.
